Remember that time....?

I have at least 5 half-written posts drafted, waiting to be completed, edited and published. Unfortunately, I doubt I'll get around to them anytime soon. Life has been (blessedly) crazy over the last week.

On Wednesday, Luke came home from work at 11am. I can now count on 3 fingers the number of times in our 9.5 years of marriage that Luke has come home from work sick. I figured it was a virus so I stayed far, far away and silently praised Jesus that our children were already at the once-a-month Parent's Day Out at church.

I went and had lunch with some girlfriends, then came back to bring Luke anti-nausea meds, ginger ale and sprite before heading to the airport to meet some friends who were arriving.

When I checked on my man I knew it was something more than a virus. He was nearly grey and looked horrible. He complained of lower right abdominal pain. I quickly told him to get dressed then promptly drove him to the Emergency Room. Two hours later he was in surgery getting an appendectomy.

Praise God for good, reliable medicine!

While I was taking Luke to the hospital, the babysitter called and told me our van wouldn't start. On Saturday I jumped the van and took it to get a new battery. All seemed well until earlier today when it stalled out in my parents' driveway and refused to crank again. Currently, it's being towed to a local mechanic.

Our dog has fleas, despite regular flea medicine, and she's now brought them into our house. Before our van decided to die I ran to the Vet's office and got some spray. Sometime in the next 24 hours I need to spray everything in our house that is carpeted or covered in fabric.

Oh, and our kids can't be in that room for 2 hours following.

Remember that time our van was broken and we couldn't really go anywhere?

And last, but certainly not least, is the fact that we're going on a 11 day trip to see family and friends. And we leave this weekend. And I need to pack. But I can't lay clothes out on the floor and organize until I spray for fleas. Then I need to pack and load up the van.

Remember that time our van was in the shop?

Luke cannot lift more than 10lbs for the next 6 weeks due to his incision.

Remember that time we were going on a trip for 11 days and I had lots of bags packed that were over 10lbs?

Finally, we had a HUGE Fundraiser Yard Sale on Friday and Saturday. Our generous and faithful friends donated TONS AND TONS of good yard sale items for us to sale and use the money toward our outgoing expenses with Africa Inland Mission.

Remember that time Luke has surgery 2 days before a major fundraiser and couldn't lift more than 10lbs?

It's been an interesting 10 days to say the least. But friends and family have literally JUMPED into action and helped us in every way imaginable.

Remember that time we raised over $2,400 from a YARD SALE? Who does that?

God does!

Remember that time God was always faithful?

Oh yeah, that's yesterday, today and tomorrow. Praise God for His faithfulness. Even in surgeries, flea infestations, packing and vacations. Life is crazy but God is good.

And I'm eating milk chocolate chips straight from the bag. Sometimes, y'all, it's about survival.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases;

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,

“therefore I will hope in him.”

(Lamentations 3:22-24 ESV)

Das Not Funny! Friday: Ashlee's antics

Our sweet Ashlee girl, how she delights my heart. She brings laughter, joy, silliness and affection into our home. She's just a fun person to be around.

She can tear through a math workbook at lightening quick speeds. She reads above grade level and enjoys all aspects of learning. She's a sharp one, that girl. However, she doesn't always use her smarts in her favor. This girl can keep us laughing that's for sure!

Two weeks ago we had a duel birthday celebration for Ashlee and Lucas. The boys used a nearby gym and had an indoor "campout" complete with wrestling matches, ball games and, of course, Star Wars. The girls had a sleepover at our house complete with a full nail and hair salon and capped off by Barbie movies.

Because the best part of a birthday is singing "Happy Birthday" to yourself.

After the weekend full of birthday festivities, Elizabeth was having a moment of pouting because she didn't think she was getting her fair share of birthday attention. My Mom pointed out to Elizabeth that she doesn't have to share her birthday and that in a few months, she'll have her very own special day and party. My Mom turned to Ashlee and said,

"You see Ashlee has to share her birthday, don't you Ashlee?"

To which Ashlee replied, flabbergasted, "WITH WHO?!?"

Anyway, back to the night of the sleepover. We had a good time and finally, at midnight the girls decided it was time to settle down there was a mother-enforced mandate to settle down. Since the time she was an itty bitty baby Ashlee has slept with a little blue bear we so originally named, Bear Bear. To fall asleep, Ashlee sucks on her bear's ear. She never took a pacci but she can hardly fall asleep without Bear Bear.

About 12:15am Ashlee appeared in the doorway of my bedroom.

"Ash, what's wrong sis?" I asked, thinking maybe she was upset about not sleeping in her bed.

"Momma," she said, with a worried look on her face, "I'm shy. I don't want any of my customers to see me chewing on my Bear Bear."

Earlier this week we sent the kids off to do their chores. One of our rotating chores is for one of the older 3 to clean one of the bathrooms. It was Ashlee's turn for that chore. She comes bounding into the kitchen, with a roll of paper towels under her arm.

"Mom?" she asks, "Where's the Oxyclean?"

"The what?" I reply.

"The Oxyclean!" she says again, like I'm dumb to even ask for clarification.

"Honey, we don't have any Oxyclean but we have the spray you always use to clean the bathroom. It's right there," I say as I point to the solution under the sink.

"But Mom! I need Oxyclean. You know. It gets the tough stains out!"

With hair color at her sleepover party

Indeed our Ashlee girl is a laugh a minute, our resident clown. Even if the majority of the time it's completely unintentional.

We're a gluten for punishment

Alternately titled:

Soy ya later

or

Don't you dairy eat that

-----

Jello makes me gag. Not the taste but the texture. One day when I was in elementary school, I had a stomach ache. Some kid sitting beside me at lunch one day scooped all of his red jello into his mouth, looked at me and squished it through his teeth, spitting it onto his lunch tray.

I puked my own red jello all over myself and the table. To this day the texture of jello makes me queasy.

My point is, food affects us. All of us. Though my example above is a trivial one, you see my point. Nearly 25 years ago a simple thing changed the way I interact with a specific food.

We have a precious child who brings life, laughter and joy into our home. However, with her comes DRAMA. And I'm not talking about your typical drama where someone hits her or takes her toy and she looses it (though that happens as well). I'm talking about IRRATIONAL DRAMA.

Like, "THERE'S AN ANT!!! I'M GOING TO DIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!! THE ANT IS GOING TO KILLLLLLLL MEEEEEEE!!!!" (Insert screams likened to those of someone being seared by hot coals repeatedly.)

Granted, our little treasure doesn't say those specific words because she's usually too busy drooling, screaming and clawing her way to the furthest corner of the house to use actual words. But you get the idea.

Bugs freak her out to put it mildly. She can fall down and scrape her knee open to bleeding and have a normal response. But if she bumps - or possibly barely scrapes her leg - on something much less painful, wails and thrashing ensues and our treasure LOSES HER EVER LOVING MIND.

Sand goes directly into her hair and impulse control? It's non-existent. She's been loosely diagnosed with sensory processing disorder, though I'm sure none of her medical charts say those exact words. But our sweet girl is certainly sensory seeking. Screaming, yelling, hammering, loud clapping, whooping and slapping are just a few of the (more annoying) ways our princess seeks sensory input.

Her impulsivity goes beyond the normal irrational impulsivity of children her age. If I directly ask her not to do something, she will look at me, smile and then do the exact thing I just told her not to do, despite knowing the consequence of her disobedience. She was drumming on the couch one afternoon near where Abigail was laying. Casually, I said "Please be careful or you will hit Abigail and hurt her." Our girl looked at me, looked at Abigail, a sly smile crept across her face and before I could yell "NO!" she hauled off and slapped Abigail in the face. Which is NOT in character for her. She loves her baby sister, all of our girls do. And they all dote on her endlessly with kisses and coos.

I feel like we are very consistent parents and we administer consequences for disobedience quickly and routinely. In fact, our little sweetie can often tell us the result of her disobedience when we sit down to talk with her before her consequence is administered.

Our treasure goes to one hour of Occupational Therapy per week and gets weekly adjustments at the chiropractor. Even still, our sweet baby girl just continues to display the behaviors listed above, plus a few that I've omitted.

I am quickly coming to the end of the knowledge that I have.

In December/January I read this book on child discipline (and I recommend it highly!) and through a series of events and conversations, realized that one of our pediatricians has done quite a bit of research on diet and how the food our children (and adults) eat can impact ADD/ADHD, sensory processing and host of other commonly diagnosed disorders.

We had some blood work done on our sweet girl and while none of it was absolutely, without a doubt conclusive, our pediatrician has suggested we do a two week trial period where we exclude all gluten, soy and dairy.

So, we're going to give it a try. I went grocery shopping today and MAN it was hard to find things without gluten, soy AND dairy. Usually eliminating one wasn't difficult but all 3 is very hard.

So, my friends, what do you suggest? Have you ever lived gluten, dairy and soy free or any combination of those?

We are a fairly healthy eating family and I typically cook the vast majority of our meals. But I know this trial period will not be easy. Our prayer is that we try for two week and either see a MAJOR improvement or none at all. At least then we can know where to go from there.

Thank goodness Jello isn't a staple food of a gluten, soy and dairy free diet. Or else, I'd be a gluten for punishment, wouldn't you say?

Ba doom ching.

Oh deer!

Alternately titled: "A series of poor wildlife rescue choices"

It's never a dull moment around here, that's for sure. And most times, the kids are only a sliver of the reason it's exciting.

Let me preface this by saying that I was raised in the country. I went huntin' and fishin' with my Daddy plenty a' times. "Goin' up to tha huntin' club" was a regular event for me as a young girl. Often, I was the only girl there. I've spent a lot of time in the woods, let's just say. (Which, you would think would equate to the fact that I know better. We rarely take our own advice, do we?)

So when Elizabeth and I went on a bike ride Thursday night and a friend in our "neighborhood" told us about a fawn in a nearby bush, I didn't think much about it. However, after a quick trip back by our house, Elizabeth begged to go see the fawn.

Okay. No big deal, right? We rode our bikes just a little ways from our house, park them and walk over to the bush where the fawn had been spotted. Since I had experience with fawns and Mommas hiding their babies, I figured it would be hard to find.

Um. Not so much.

See that large mass of concrete behind Elizabeth? Yeah. Momma deer hid her baby in a landscaped median of a parking lot.

My friend Shannon said on facebook, "You are the third family I've seen in the last 24 hours to find fawns. Seems like animals are becoming questionable parents just like humans."

That made me laugh. The truth is funny.

Anyway, as Elizabeth and I sat looking at the not-so-hidden baby fawn, Elizabeth asked, "Can I pet it?"

I rolled the thought around in my mind and figured she was already arm distance away from it. I told her to take a small scoot toward the baby. As she did, the baby became uneasy. Not wanting to disturb the poor thing, I told her, "Baby, it's getting scared. Let's back away and leave it alone."

As she and I scooted away, we spooked the little guy (gal?) anyway and it jumped up and ran into the road.

Awesome. Way to be a protector of nature, Jessica.

Elizabeth began yelling the thoughts that were already in my head, "Mom! IT'S IN THE ROAD! It's gonna DIIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

I walked toward "Bambi" (as Elizabeth later so originally named it) and Bambi began to run with long, lanky, unbalanced strides across the road and toward a nearby home. Without giving too much info for internet creepers: where we live, though in a residential area, it's not uncommon to see lots of deer, squirrels, etc. We sort of live in a community with other folks, but off the beaten path. All of that to say, wildlife isn't exactly afraid of people in our neighborhood.

Ahem, anyway. Bambi wasn't in any REAL danger of being hit by a car (though it was possible) but more so I was now worried that her (his?) Momma wouldn't be able to find her (him?) later. Even though her hiding spot sucked, it was still her hiding spot, ya know?

Bambi, stupidly, jumped down into a stairwell that led to the basement of a nearby house. Elizabeth and I stood at the top of the stairwell and looked at a very frightened little deer and wondered what in the world we should do.

I texted and called anyone I could think of that could google, "What do you do when you spook a baby deer?" but alas, no one answered or replied to my cries for help. It's times like then that I would enjoy the luxury of a smartphone.

Anyway, I panicked and did what any girl does when she panics, I called my Mom. Together, we decided that the baby deer wasn't hidden very well and now that it was spooked it would surely die at the hands of nature and that I should catch the pitiful thing and take it home.

Divinely, my Mom was just around the corner after finishing an exercise class and she promised to come over straight away and help me get our bikes and Bambi the whole 1/4 mile back to our house.

While I waited on her to arrive, I eased into the shallow stairwell and cornered Bambi. It crossed my mind that this little precious thing might kick or bite me. I grabbed Bambi by the hind quarters and he (she?) let out a loud bleet. At that point, I half expected a Momma deer to appear from nowhere and begin ramming me in the backside with her head.

This scene from Tommy Boy played through my head as I climbed into my Mom's minivan and we drove the quarter mile back to our house. I had a death grip on this poor deer and his (her?) heart was pounding wildly. Poor little fella was terrified.

We got home and I could hear Abigail screaming the minute I opened the car door. She reserves a special hate cry for Luke. It's sad really. However, I knew if I tried to pass Bambi off to someone else there was a high probability that he (she?) would kick free and then we'd be back to chasing a baby deer all over God knows where. So I clung to Bambi tightly and asked my Mom to relieve Luke from the wails of his 3 month old daughter.

When I got inside, I received a less-than-thrilled greeting from my husband. I wasn't exactly sure how long Bambi had been left unattended so I did what any normal, rational, self-respecting mother would do.

I thawed out some breastmilk and attempted to give Bambi a bottle.

Isn't he (she?) a doll? Oh my word. And she (he?) took about an ounce, too! Once Bambi got a taste of the milk, I think he (she?) realized where it came from because it began to lick - and then tried to nibble - at my shirt. Ahem, you know, in the "upper" region.

Meanwhile, my Mom had managed to calm Abigail down a little bit but she was still in desperate need of her Momma, if you know what I mean.

My next thought turned to where in the world could I put this deer down without A) our dog killing it and B) it not destroying our house.

I needed to google something fierce and figure out what in the heck we're going to do with this little thing because if we wait too long, Elizabeth's going to have a leash on it and be walking it around the neighborhood. And, ahem, you know, I only have so much breastmilk in my freezer.

So I sent Elizabeth to gather up some baby blankets and we made a little bed for Bambi in the best place I could think, the bathtub.

I sort of wondered what was going to happen when I put this baby down. Will it freak out and gash our heads open with it's hooves? Will it slip on the bathtub and tile floor and break it's leg?

Turns out baby deer lay down where you put them. Probably because, you know, THAT'S WHAT THEIR MOMMAS TRAIN THEM TO DO. Ahem. You know.

I fed Abigail and began googling "what do you do with a fawn" like a mad woman. Nearly every.single.flippin. article I read says, "DO NOT TAKE A FAWN HOME IF YOU FIND IT."

Duh, I think. But they clearly don't know my circumstances. I read on.

More instructions say, "If the deer appears to be in danger by it's hidden location, simply watch the fawn from afar. Do not attempt to move the deer or pet it."

Double fail.

Finally, after talking to my Mom and reading virtually everything on google, Elizabeth and I decided to take the fawn back. A few sites said that if you moved a fawn but get it back by dusk, the mother would come back and take it as she had originally planned. At this point it's nearly dark so we hustled to gather up the fawn, load up the car and get back to the rendezvous point before it's totally dark.

As Elizabeth, Bambi and I pulled into the parking lot near Bambi's former hiding place, we see two deer sprint in front of our headlights. Elizabeth, not so calmly screeched, "MOM! THERE'S HIS MOMMY! HURRRRRRRRY THEY'RE RUNNNNNING AWAY! BAMBI'S GONNA DIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

I threw the car in park and jumped out with Bambi in my arms. I contemplated throwing Bambi into the air and releasing him (her?) back to her (his?) mother like a dove would take to flight but I figure I'd already failed Bambi enough and a broken leg wouldn't work in his (her?) favor.

I calmly walked over to the less than obscure hiding spot where Bambi was first spotted. Gently, I placed my newly nursed baby Bambi back in his (her?) snuggly, pine-needly bed. He (she?) stood and then took a few steps. I backed away slowly and Bambi faded from my vision thanks to the now pitch black that surrounded us. Elizabeth and I pulled my Mom's minivan to the other side of the parking lot, cut it off and sat and waited hoping that Bambi's Momma would come back quickly.

About 20 minutes later, as Elizabeth and I both are beginning to get quite bored of staring at bushes, Elizabeth spotted a deer! The doe grazed and slowly wandered around the grassy areas near the median that holds the bushes and Bambi. After watching her for about 25 minutes we decided we'd better head home. We started the car and the doe leapt about 30 yards then stopped and stared at us as we drive off.

The next morning we went to check on Bambi and he (she?) was gone! We prayed and we are trusting that God reunited her (him?) with Momma Deer.

Moral of this story?

God is merciful. For about 2 hours my eldest daughter got the privilege of loving on the sweetest little baby deer I've ever seen. She was in heaven and we made some memories that neither of us will ever forget.

And also, don't touch wildlife.

The end.

Das Not Funny! Friday: Confessions of a 3rd grade homeschooler

We finished up Elizabeth's standardized torture test about half an hour ago. As soon as we closed her booklet we flung our arms around each other and squealed with delight that she is now "officially" a 3rd grader. While I was busy packing up materials to return to the scoring center, she bounced off to her room carrying my iPod, unbeknownst to me.

Below is the video she made. My heart swells with so much joy over this precious girl. She's full of personality, that's for sure. Too bad she's a sheltered, introverted, unsocialized homeschool kid. ;)

Happy 4th Birthday Aaron!

It's a season of birthdays in our house! I remember four years ago today like it was yesterday.

Our foster parent license had been submitted to the state about 4 weeks prior and I was anxiously awaiting news that we'd been processed and were available for a placement.

The phone rang and for some reason, my heart didn't jump in anticipation like it had done every day since our license had been submitted. As I recall the conversation between myself and our social worker (you can read about that by clicking here) tears well up in my eyes. God's goodness it unbelievable.

Four years ago today our foster parent license was approved. Within a matter of hours, our sweet Aaron was born across town, unbeknownst to me.

I always think about his birth mother on his birthday. I wonder if she thinks about him, if she replays his birth in her mind like I do on our birth children's birthdays, and if she wishes she could see him. I thank God that she chose life for our precious son and I stand in awe that God allowed me the privilege of being his Mother, though he came from another woman's womb.

His laughter is infectious. He can cause our whole family to crack up with even his fake laugh. This boy is a comedian for sure. He's inquisitive and asks approximately 7,599 questions per hour.

He adores trains, big trucks and lately, killer whales.

He's got the most crystal clear blue eyes I've ever seen and they garner a lot of attention from everyone he meets. In fact, he's even started telling me, "Momma. I got boo-tee-ful bwoo eyes, don't I?" He gives fantastic bear hugs and can shower you with compliments.

He's officially a member of the "big kid" crew in our house. He dropped afternoon naps a while back and he sleeps through the night without a pull up! He and Lucas have started to really bond as the lone boys in our house and they do their part in equally protecting and alternately terrorizing our girls - the latter when they think they will get away with it! He's a lover not a fighter and loathes any food that is green - except salad.

He continues to prove to us that God can ask mighty big things of you, often stretching your desire to obey His callings on your life. However, with obedience comes heaping shovelfuls of mercy, grace and blessing.

Four years ago, we could have never guessed the blessings that this sweet boy would pour into our family. His determination, smile, laugh and humor are a constant reminder that God's plans for us are certainly better than our own. How we treasure this boy!

He's beginning to ask questions about when came out of my tummy. I gently remind him that he came from another Mommy's tummy but I am the one who God chose to be his Mommy forever. I pray that God gives us wisdom as we proceed in telling him how God wrote his story perfectly. And that one day he understands that even in the Master's perfect plan there will be pain.

Thank you Lord for this boy of ours! Happy Birthday Aaron boy! We love you so very much!

You can read about his 3rd, 2nd & 1st birthdays by clicking on those links.

Abigail at 3 months old

Well, somehow I totally missed posting about Abigail at 2 months old. I remembered about a week later and then forgot again just as quickly.

Here's Abigail at 1 month if you'd like some perspective.

But what I truly cannot believe is that my baby is already 3 months old. Okay, actually I can. Because y'all, it's been a long 3 months.

Yet at the same time, I'm finding it harder and harder to remember what I did with my time before I was babywearing, nursing, changing, swaddling and snuggling a baby. And I'm having a hard time remembering what it was like to drive somewhere without a baby screaming in the back seat. Yep, she still hates her carseat.

Sorry, that face is just too cute!

At 3 months old, my sweet Abigail Mercy loves, loves to be held. She spends the majority of her day wrapped onto my chest in the Moby wrap or in the arms of Elizabeth - my biggest helper. I'm not sure how I would be managing without my Moby or my oldest daughter.

Unlike Ella at 3 months, Abigail could take or leave being in the mix of the other kids. Don't get me wrong, she enjoys the attention. But as I re-read that post about Ella at 3 months old, I remember her being so break-neck to see everyone and be in the middle of everything. Abigail is not quite the same way. She's perfectly content to sit in the swing and watch from a far (not that she's in the swing often, mind you!) or look at everyone else from her spot, wrapped tightly on my chest.

Her eyes are so blue they're almost indigo. Does that make sense? They're deep and rich and I could just stare at them for hours. Ahem, you know, if I didn't have 6 other people who need my attention.

She's free with her smiles and offers them to complete strangers on the regular, which tickles both me and the sweet ladies in the store who are forever stopping us to oogle over my nearly-auburn haired baby.

She's still got the sweetest little dimple that appears on the right side of her mouth when she smiles. I adore it. Can you see it in the photo above? I just want to pinch it. Gently, of course. ;)

She sleeps pretty well, certainly better than most of our others at this age. Her first stretch of night time sleep varies between 5 - 6 hours, usually starting about 10pm. Then she goes 2 - 3 hours between feedings. Certainly I cannot complain! Now if I would only go to bed at a decent time and enjoy that long stretch of sleep!

I've had to give up dairy since she seems to not sleep as well when I'm eating and drinking dairy products. She's also much more fussy. Good thing my awesome husband found some coconut milk ice cream. It's yummy and I hardly miss dairy at all - except for cheese.

She's snuggly and cuddly and really dislikes being laid down flat on her back for any length of time longer than 5 minutes. I'm not sure how that will work for her ability to roll over! She is easy going, loves her pacifier and sucks on her hands when a pacci cannot be shoved into her mouth quickly enough. She tolerates all the kisses, hugs, pats and the constant invasion of her personal space quite well.

And, I happen to think she's quite possibly the sweetest, most beautiful 3 month old I know! We continue to stand in awe of God's merciful love for us that He would give us another treasure such as Abigail. Happy 3 months sweet baby girl!